


Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.

by islabbe



Series: Tumblr prompts [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Post 5x06, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 14:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14956491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islabbe/pseuds/islabbe
Summary: There was blood everywhere; some of it red, but most of it was black.  Bellamy wrinkled his nose at the metallic smell as it filled his nose.  Pushing down the reflex to gag, he quickly made his way over to the tent.“Clarke, stay with me,” he said gruffly, his voice straining as bent down to enter hers and Madi’s tent.  She was drifting in and out of consciousness and Bellamy knew the longer he dawdled, the less time she had.Why did she have to go and get shot?--Tumblr prompt:  "You were dead, I mourned you all these years.”





	Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thelittlefanpire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlefanpire/gifts).



> Okay, so Sara sent me this prompt and it just had to be canon didn't it?  
> Somehow I can't write canon and not make it angst? But I tried to make it happy this time!
> 
> Title and lyrics from Harry Styles' _Two Ghosts_

_We're not who we used to be_

_We're just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me_

_Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat_

 

 

There was blood everywhere; some of it red, but most of it was black.  Bellamy wrinkled his nose at the metallic smell as it filled his nose.  Pushing down the reflex to gag, he quickly made his way over to the tent.

“Clarke, stay with me,” he said gruffly, his voice straining as bent down to enter hers and Madi’s tent.  She was drifting in and out of consciousness and Bellamy knew the longer he dawdled, the less time she had. 

_Why did she have to go and get shot?_

It wasn’t her fault, he knew deep down.  But anger had always been easier to deal with than fear.  In his heart, it wasn’t Clarke he was angry with, but his sister for ordering Cooper to shoot defectors.  Clarke had got caught up in the firing line, like she always had, and had taken a hit to her shoulder.

Madi cleared the small table and Bellamy lay Clarke down on it.  She groaned and he took that as a good sign.  Then he stepped away as saw just how much blood had wept from the wound.  Everything was black, thick, and sticky.  Bellamy felt like he might throw up.

He scanned over Clarke’s face; she was too pale for Bellamy’s liking, and her face had a sheen of sweat over it.   

“We need to check for an exit wound,” Madi said and Bellamy nodded mutely.  He tore his gaze away from Clarke and started to help Madi.  He didn’t stop to question exactly _why_ Madi knew how to treat a bullet wound, but he figured Clarke had taught her the basics.

Bellamy had never been one for fixing people, he was usually the one getting fixed.  But Clarke needed him and he couldn’t lose her again.  Not af-

He stopped himself.  Going down that thought process wasn’t going to help anything and he needed to help Madi.

Madi took Clarke’s jacket off and Bellamy started searching for something to use as gauze.  He returned as saw Madi heave a sigh of relief.

The table was splattered with Clarke’s blood already and Bellamy tore his attention away from her and focused on Madi and what she needed.

“There’s an exit wound,” she said and Bellamy’s heart clenched painfully at how much she sounded like Clarke.  “Which is good, but it’s quite messy.”

Bellamy clenched his jaw.  “Okay, we need to work quick.”

Madi’s eyes flickered up to his.  In that moment, he saw how scared she was.  She wasn’t one of the hundred, she hadn’t been dealing with this since she landed on the ground.  She was just a kid.  A kid who was about to lose her mom if he didn’t help.

“You need to check Clarke is breathing properly and stop the bleeding.  I’ll clean the wound,” he told her.  Madi nodded and quickly snapped into action.  She moved around the table so she was knelt by Clarke’s head with her hand pressed over the wound.

Bellamy directed his attention back to Clarke.  The wound on her back wasn’t too big, but Madi was right - it was messy.  The stench of it filled his nostrils and Bellamy once again had to resist the urge to retch.

He steeled himself and got to work.  He didn’t ask where Clarke got the alcohol from, but it was pungent.  The combination of smells from the blood and alcohol filled the air, and Bellamy was hit with a wave of nostalgia as he cleaned the area on Clarke’s shoulder.

He was reminded of an event that seemed a lifetime ago in similar small tents with the mix of alcohol and blood mixing.  Who’d have thought he’d be reminiscing their time at the dropship.  By habit, he blocked that out and focused again on cleaning the last of the blood.

Bellamy didn’t have much experience treating the wounded, and not for the first time that night he wished that him and Clarke could swap places.  She’d be so much better at this than him.

“Can you sew?”  Bellamy asked Madi.  She mutely shook her head.

“It’s okay” he reassured her.  “I can.”

He didn’t need to tell her he’d only ever sewn with fabric, but it didn’t seem that different.

Madi quickly moved around the small space and got something to sew with and some fine wire from one of the bags in their tent.  Bellamy wiped his forehead of sweat.  When he looked back down at his hands he saw they were wet with black blood.  Clarke’s blood.  He felt sick in his stomach again.

Madi handed him the sewing implements and he gave her a quick nod in thanks.  Madi moved back around and made sure Clarke’s breathing wasn’t affected.

Bellamy took a deep breath and started to sew the wound up.

 

***

 

At some point in the night, Madi fell asleep.  Bellamy made a silent vow to himself that he’d stay up to make sure Clarke woke up.  He had to make sure she was okay.  Bellamy moved Madi onto one of the two makeshift beds and then took her seat next to Clarke and waited.

 

***

 

The flap of the tent opened and light poured into the small space.  Cool air hit Bellamy’s face and he turned his face to see Harper stood in the entrance to the tent.

“Hey,” she said quietly with a small smile.  She made her way into the small space.

“Hey,” Bellamy returned as he sat up.  He rubbed sleep from his eyes.  He hadn’t meant to fall asleep sat up, hunched over with his head resting near her stomach but exhaustion had taken over.

 “Will she be okay?”  Harper asked and Bellamy let his attention turn back to Clarke.  His chest squeezed painfully; she still hadn’t woken up.  He didn’t know if that was normal, but it didn’t seem good.

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully.  Harper nodded and looked down.  Bellamy clenched his jaw, and silently willed Clarke to wake up.

“You should get some rest,” Harper told him as she squeezed his shoulder.  He shook his head and pursed his lips.

“I have to make sure she wakes up,” Bellamy replied, not taking his eyes of Clarke.

He heard Harper sigh and she dropped her hand from his shoulder.  This was an argument she wasn’t going to win, she knew that. 

“Well, if you’re still here by lunch I’m forcing you to eat,” she said sternly and Bellamy let a small smile play across his lips.  Back on the early days of living on the ring, Monty’s algae farm had produced what was definitely the worst algae soup Bellamy had ever tasted.  When they started to refuse to eat for fear of vomiting all night, Harper had threated the force it down their throats.

The joke was a small reminder of what they’d been through on the ring.  They were family.

But Clarke was his family too, and he couldn’t leave her.  Not like this, not when he wasn’t sure if she’d wake up.  He felt like he was dangling by a single thread and leaving her would be the final snap that left him plummeting into the unknown.

 

The flaps of the tent shift again and Harper was gone.

Bellamy sighed and rubbed his tired eyes.  When he looked down he could see Clarke’s blood under his nails.  Bellamy had spent years torturing himself over the fact that Clarke’s blood was on his hands, she had died because of him. 

But now, now she wasn’t dead.  She was here in front of him, but she might be dying. 

He held his head in his hands, he couldn’t do this again.  He couldn’t have her within arms’ reach, just to have her slip away again.  Like water, she was essential for his survival, but she kept slipping through his grasp.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there silently praying for Clarke to be okay, for just one more miracle.  Maybe they’d already had their miracle when she survived Praimfaya, he thought grimly.

A groan pulled him from his thoughts.  Bellamy’s head snapped up to see Clarke rubbing her eyes with her uninjured arm.  Bellamy’s breath hitched.  She was okay, she was awake, and she was alive.

“Clarke?”  A voice asked from the other side of the room.

“Madi?”  Clarke asked groggily.  Madi rushed over and started to help Clarke to sit up and offer her water.

Bellamy watched in silence.  He wasn’t sure where to even begin.

He settled on; “Hey, Princess,”

Clarke snorted into the water Madi was offering her but she smiled back at him when Madi took the cup away.

Bellamy’s eyes didn’t leave Clarke’s.  He couldn’t tear his gaze away when he was so close to never seeing her blue eyes again.  Not after spending six years thinking he’d never see them again.

“Can you move your arm?”  Madi asked.  Clarke’s attention snapped back to her daughter and Bellamy had to admire how quickly Madi snapped into the caring role.  It was a testament to how close they were, he mused, that Madi cared so much for Clarke.  He was glad they had each other for those six long years.

After Madi had checked Clarke was okay and that her shoulder wasn’t broken (she was, and it wasn’t.  Somehow the bullet had missed everything important) she left the tent to get them some food.  She shot a thankful smile at Bellamy and left them alone.

Clarke pushed herself up to sit on the table.  Bellamy wanted to protest that the stiches would tear but the look of determination stopped him.

“How are you feeling?”  Bellamy asked as soon as Madi had left, knowing Clarke was probably lying to her to stop her from worrying.

“Like I got shot in the shoulder,” Clarke replied with a smirk.  Bellamy didn’t return the smile, his frown deepened. 

“Clarke,” he started in warning.  She looked over at him and her face fell from the smirk.

“Bellamy,” she said quietly.  “I’m okay.”

He stayed silent and she pursed her lips.  He dropped her gaze and stared down at her hands. 

Finally, he spoke.  “I just can’t do it again, Clarke.”

“Bellamy?”  She asked.

 

Bellamy took a deep breath, not knowing where to begin.  What were you supposed to say to a ghost?

That’s what Clarke was, really.  She was a living, breathing ghost.  The memory of a girl he thought he’d laid to rest.  But not anymore.  Now she was living and breathing again and close enough for him to touch, and he’d almost lost her _again_.

 

“You were dead,” he ground out, looking away.  “I mourned you all these years.”

Clarke stayed silent and he carried on.

“Some days up on the ring, I let myself believe that maybe you were okay.  Maybe you’d gotten to the lab in time, or that you’d lived in a cave for a while.”  He swallowed, still refusing to meet her eye.  “But Raven said it was impossible you’d have found food, even if you did survive the death wave.”

“So, I stopped hoping after a while.  I couldn’t see a way that you survived this.”  He took a deep breath.

“But then we get to the ground and I find out you’re alive and it was so much for me to take in.  And I’m trying to back to the way things were before, but we’re not those people anymore.”  He voice was raising with emotion.

“I just…” Clarke was still silent and he finally met her eyes again.  “I can’t do it again, Clarke.  Losing you once was…”

Tears were prickling his eyes and Clarke reached across to cup his face.

“Bellamy,” she said quietly.  It was the same tone she’d used thousands of times before but it felt different now.  Her expression mirrored his and he felt her thumb delicately wipe his tears away before. 

“You won’t lose me again,” she said with a small smile.

Before he could think better of it, he surged forward and pressed a kiss to her lips. It wasn’t perfect.  Tears were still spilling down his face - the night’s events finally catching up to him - and her lips were chapped.  But it was perfect to him.

She responded quickly, as if she’d anticipated the kiss, and pulled him closer.  She smiled into the kiss and he brought his arms around her to pull him close.  She winced as he did so, he’d forgotten about her shoulder, and he scolded himself as he pulled away.

“Sorry,” he cringed.  Clarke laughed lightly, a sound he’d missed all those years in space. 

She pressed her forehead against his and Bellamy felt calmed almost instantly.  Clarke had always had that effect on him, but it showed now more than ever.

 “You won’t lose me again, I promise,” she told him.  Bellamy wanted to believe her; his heart told him to, but his head told him to be rational.

Bellamy ran his thumb over her cheek and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.  Bellamy wanted to believe that he’d never lose her again, and maybe in the small space with just the two of them, pressed together like this, he could believe it.  Just for now, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> Come chat with me on [tumblr](http://blueshirtbell.tumblr.com)!


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